


99 Shots of Jack

by EleosEpistrophia



Category: Twin Peaks
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Characterization? What Characterization?, Drunk Harry Truman, Emetophilia, Face-Fucking, Guy with a drinking problem tries giving a blowjob but vomits halfway through, M/M, Not Particularly Romantic, PWP, Verbal Humiliation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-29
Updated: 2020-12-29
Packaged: 2021-03-11 03:48:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,240
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28398735
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EleosEpistrophia/pseuds/EleosEpistrophia
Summary: An alternate ending for when Cooper went to the Bookhouse to console Harry.*Please note that this fic isn't particularly romantic, nor plotty, nor does it contribute anything meaningful to the fandom. It's pure baddirtywrong kinds of porn, and you should only enter if that's your thing.*
Relationships: Dale Cooper/Harry Truman
Comments: 13
Kudos: 10
Collections: Bulletproof 20/21





	99 Shots of Jack

**Author's Note:**

  * For [StrawberrySmog](https://archiveofourown.org/users/StrawberrySmog/gifts).



> For StrawberrySmog, who writes excellent freeform tags and has fantastic taste in dirtybadwrong kinds of porn.
> 
> Edit: I didn't realize anyone would actually read this, so here's a brief plot summary for those unfamiliar with the canon: Dale Cooper is an FBI agent who gets called in to help the town Sheriff, Harry Truman, on a case. The lead up to this moment in time is that Harry's girlfriend has died in front of him and is trapped in a door knob in a piece of furniture in a hotel (a plot point that never gets resolved or elaborated on, but whatevs). Cooper has also had a girlfriend die in his past, and currently he's on the trail of a serial killer named Windom Earle. Harry has been on a bender in a place called 'The Bookhouse', which is essentially a clubhouse for a bunch of adult manly dudes.

“Is that it?” Cooper asks as he pours out the last bottle of Jack Daniel's.

“I hope so. Checked the toilet tank, underneath all the loose floorboards. Harry’s gonna rack up one hell of a bill getting this place put back together,” Hawk replies, glancing around at the carnage of overturned furniture and shattered glass.

“You’re a good friend.” Cooper gives his shoulder a reassuring squeeze and they both look towards the bedroom where a sleeping Harry awaits the worst hangover of his life.

“Thanks for coming. We didn’t know what to do. Never seen him like this.” Beneath the tinge of concern Hawk sounds almost impressed.

“A man who doesn’t love easily loves too much,” Cooper says, and Hawk’s silence signals his agreement. Cooper had avoided coming as long as he could, partially because his hands had been tied with Windom Earle, and partially because it brought up too much of the past. He hadn't anticipated how healing it could be to help someone fight a similar demon.

“He’s going to hate himself in the morning.” Hawk shifts his weight, teetering indecisively.

“I’ll stay overnight with him,” Cooper volunteers.

“You sure?” Hawk asks, in the hesitant voice of a man who needs a break but doesn’t want to impose a burden.

“Yeah. I’ve got a lot on my mind anyway. Get outta here.”

“If you’re sure.” Hawk nods his goodbye, and then it’s just Cooper and a sleeping Harry in the Bookhouse.

“Harry, Harry, Harry.” Cooper sighs and he winds his way to the bedroom. He rights an upturned chair that had been the victim of Harry’s rage and sits down bedside the bed, looking at his friend with a sad fondness. His curly hair is unwashed, clothes wrinkled and stained, and his five o’clock shadow in nearing the witching hour. After two days of binge drinking, Harry is a miserable mess of a man. “What are we going to do with you?”

“Gimme a cheeseburger?” The words come in a low grumble wrapped with days old breath. Cooper grins and jostles his arm.

“I thought you were asleep. You drank enough to put down an elephant.” Harry chuckles and vaguely bats at Cooper.

“Can’t keep a good man down.” The volume of Harry’s voice is now constant instead of low growls alternating with screams but Cooper suspects there’s still plenty of alcohol in his stomach waiting to catch up with him.

“I can head to the Double R.” Cooper starts to rise but Harry haphazardly bats for him again.

“No. Don’t wanna be alone.” He sits back down and Harry turns over, awkwardly propping himself on his arm. 

“You know Coop, I’ve had a… thing for you since you came into town.” Cooper raises an eyebrow and a half smile wiggles it’s way onto his face. He had known, of course - as stoic as Harry usually was, he had his tells just like everyone else. He had just assumed that Harry was another small town repressed bisexual without the balls to make a move. Two days of Jack Daniel's had probably helped spur his courage.

“Oh?” 

“Yeah.” Harry’s eyes come in and out of focus but when they’re pointed at him like lasers Cooper thinks this is more than a drunken whim. “Wanted to fuck you, but I was with Josie. Kind of. Guess I don't have that problem anymore.” He reaches over and puts a palm on Cooper’s thigh.

“Too bad I’m a pitcher,” Cooper replies, enjoying the warmth. Harry’s eyes twinkle with newfound possibilities.

“But you _do_ play ball.”

“It’ll surprise you how many men do.” Cooper doesn’t mean it as a challenge but Harry’s hand is on the move, slowly creeping towards his zipper. “Harry, you’re too drunk for this.”

“’Ve had a baaaaaad day, Coop,” he whines. “And a lil cock would make it a lot better.”

“It’s not little.” 

“Guess I won’t know ‘til I see it,” Harry says, and his fingertips begin slowly drawing the zipper down. Cooper feels the stirrings of arousal and is torn. On one hand, Harry is his friend, Harry is very inebriated, and having sex with local law enforcement can get... messy. On the other hand, he thinks Harry might be doing the right thing. As the old saying went, the best way to get over someone was to get under someone else. Maybe if he hadn't isolated after Caroline's death his own road to recovery would have been easier. The thing that tips the balance is that it had been too long since anyone had reached for him like this and he’d wasted his self-restraint when he found Audrey in his bed.

“I hope your parents taught you to finish what you start,” he says darkly. 

“Pull down your pants ‘n find out,” Harry leers. They lock eyes as Cooper slowly gets up, unbuckling his belt and pulling down his pants and underwear. He does an awkward dance as he kicks off his shoes and socks, his half hard cock jiggling at his movements. When he’s finally naked he sits back on the chair, his legs spread.

“Show me what you’ve got.” Harry sits up on the edge of the bed before falling down into the space between his legs. He plants both hands on Cooper’s thighs, massaging the muscle lightly as his hot, sour breath ghosts over Cooper’s cock.

“You’re big,” he says hungrily. If Cooper is honest with himself, which is always is, his cock isn’t particularly _big_. Just very proportionate to his six foot frame.

“Think you can handle it?” He asks, giving himself a few leisurely strokes. Harry doesn’t reply, just bats his hand away and grips the base as he licks a clean line up to the tip.

Cooper lets his head roll back as he gives a soft groan. It’s been a while since anyone has given him a blow job, and despite his cocky attitude he’s not sure how long he’s going to last. He half hopes that Harry gives terrible head just so he can enjoy the sensation of a warm mouth for as long as possible.

Unfortunately Harry is either a cock savant or well-practiced because everything he does is _right_. He swallows the entire cock before pulling back, lubricating Cooper’s length. Then he dives back down, licking the vein on the underside as his fingers swirl around the girth, up and down in long strokes. Cooper’s only saving grace is that apparently Harry wants this to last as much as he does because the pace is slow and easy, occasionally interrupted by Harry’s tongue bathing his head and licking up the precome from his slit.

“Yeah Harry. That’s it.” Cooper props his feet up on the bed and slouches down into Harry’s mouth, likes it when Harry gags as the angle forces more cock down his throat. He comes up for air and Cooper waits as he gasps, expecting him to continue like before. Instead Harry looks up at Cooper with dark determination before going back down, swallowing his cock to the base.

“Ooooh fuck.” Cooper groans. “I think you’re too drunk for this.” Harry evidently disagrees and when he moans Cooper feels the vibrations in his balls.

“God.” Cooper’s hands reach down to Harry’s neck and he cups the sides lightly. He feels the thick muscles constrict and relax, the Adam’s apple bobbing in slow strokes as Harry’s throat milks his cock. When Harry moans again Cooper grabs his hair and thrusts against the vibration, his pelvis mashing Harry’s nose and chin as Cooper seals his face around his dick.

Harry pulls off once more and Cooper yanks his hair back, forcing him to look up. Harry’s face is flushed from alcohol and arousal, his lips plump and shiny with saliva that makes bridges to Cooper’s cock. They lock eyes, Harry’s usually placid gaze gone defiant and challenging even though tears are at the corner of his eyes, and Cooper take a moment to lock the image in his memory.

When he releases his grip, Harry goes back down and Cooper doesn’t hold back. He grabs the back of his head and starts thrusting his hips, mashing Harry’s nose into his pubic hair with every upstroke. Harry gags at the onslaught but Cooper is past caring, knows Harry can open his throat to whatever Cooper gives him, and so he just keeps going. Harry’s hands wander to Cooper’s hips, trying to rock him into a more brutal, punishing pace. Cooper doesn’t know if there is a thing as ‘too much’ for Harry but the need to find out consumes him. He picks up the pace, beads of sweat starting to prickle down his body, and every time Harry gags he feels a little more accomplished, gets a little closer. The wetness around his cock changes, becoming more viscous and coating his dick in a silky embrace. Cooper moans at the incredible sensation and it makes it easier for his cock to slip in and out a little faster, a little harder...

Suddenly Harry’s body jerks and his cheeks are full as gagging becomes retching. Cooper slows to a stop as a warm gush of liquid runs up into Harry’s mouth, hot and thick. He doesn’t have time to blink before it’s sliding down his cock and balls in gooey, sticky torrents, leaving a burning tingle in its wake. The acrid smell of stomach acid wafts into the air as Harry leans back against the bed panel and coughs, trying to clear the liquid from his airway.

“Oh.” Cooper is stunned by the realization that his partner has regurgitated his last few hours of binge drinking all over his dick. He’s more stunned by the fact that his erection is still throbbing proudly. He should be doing something else, he’s sure, but all he can think of is Harry gagging around his cock, so desperate and depraved that even the threat of puking can’t keep him from devouring his dick. It's hot, hot in a way that Cooper would wrestle with if he wasn't so damn close to getting off. He reaches for his cock to finish the job, manages a few squelching strokes before Harry’s fingers are around his wrist, yanking him away.

“Harry...” He wants to sound concerned, hesitant, but it comes out as a gasp as Harry leans over and take his filthy cock back into his mouth, gulping it straight down to the base. Cooper doesn’t waste time, grabs Harry’s head with both hands and begins face fucking him.

“Fuck yes.” He digs his nails into Harry’s hair and a few strands break under the pressure of Cooper's pushing and pulling. “Just fucking take it, gag on it.” He stops for a second, Harry’s lips stretched around the base of his cock, until he hears those delicious gurgles and starts again at a rapid-fire pace.

“You’re filthy Harry. Covered in your own puke but you still can’t stop sucking cock. If I had known you were so desperate I would have locked the door to your office, had you on your knees every morning.” He’s babbling, chasing the tension in his belly as his thrusts make obscene squelches against Harry’s wet face. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you? Me face-fucking you every day. You’d never say when, just let me use your throat until you were sick. Except I wouldn’t stop when you threw up – I’d just keep fucking your mouth through it until I came, leaving you in a puddle of puke and come. Or maybe I’d jerk off on your face and make you- oh fuck.” There's a final thrust that seems deeper, more desperate than the ones that came before it. Cooper's hands are balled at the roots of Harry's hair, holding him immobile against his twitching dick. He gasps and sees stars as he unloads shot after shot down that warm, silky throat.

“Fuck...” he groans again when his vision returns. For a moment he feels mildly disgusted with himself. His genitals are dripping with saliva and vomit which are rapidly cooling, leaving his skin slightly irritated and sticky. The stench is positively biohazardous - heavy with sweat, sex, alcohol and stomach acid, which he’s sure will linger in the Bookhouse until it’s dying day. The clean-up for himself and everything their escapade has touched is going to be much more effort than he wants to extend post-orgasm. Except he looks down to Harry, who is gasping as he clears his throat, hair disheveled and face red and utterly debauched, and he can’t bring himself to regret any of it.

“You O.K.?” He asks, ignoring his discomfort as he leans over and cups Harry’s neck in his hand.

“Yeah,” Harry whispers in a raspy voice. “I think my throat is going to hurt tomorrow.”

“Undoubtedly.” Cooper’s cock and balls start to itch and he winces. “Does this place have a shower? We could both use some clean up.” Harry shakes his head.

“Just a sink.”

“I supposed it’ll have to do.” Cooper gets up and winces again when the slurry runs down his legs.

“Coop?” Harry’s voice is hesitant.

“Yeah?”

“I’d appreciate it if you didn’t tell anyone about this.” Cooper grins and gives Harry a slap on the back as he walks towards the kitchen.

“Trust me Harry, as much as this memory is going to stay with me, no one else is going to hear about it.”


End file.
